One of the few things I don't love about being on the campaign trail is getting the same questions again and again and again. Especially the one about my so-called "political transformation".

Shouldn't there be a statute of limitation on questions about this? I mean, when I was a Republican, Saddam Hussein was our ally, George Bush owned a mediocre baseball team, Enron was a respected energy company and Michael Jackson was still black.

Well, we all have our vices. For some, it's booze. For others it's group sex. For me, it was Newt Gingrich.

But I'm very happy to say that I've put mine behind me. Times change. People grow up. And so did I.

Y'know, there's a word they use for people who hold the same opinions for their entire life and refuse to let new evidence change their minds. I believe the word I'm looking for is… Republicans.

As part of my college tour, I am in Sacramento about to speak at Sacramento City College. Given the timing of this event, I've decided to start my presentation with a moment of silence and some thoughts about how have we squandered the opportunity to build on the incredible sense of unity and community forged in the days following September 11, 2001.

Here is what I am planning to say:

Today, all across the country, Americans will mark the second anniversary of Sept. 11.

As we do, we'll think back to where we were when we first heard that the unthinkable had happened and remember the fear, the horror, and the outrage.

But let's also take the time to remember that as the shock began to wear off and the full dimensions of the tragedy began to become clear, the American people responded with a generosity of spirit that was profound and magnificent.

Blood banks overflowed, such a throng of people showed up to help at Ground Zero that many had to be turned away, and tens of millions of dollars poured in to charities.

The media abandoned their obsession with shark attacks and Gary Condit and did an exemplary job keeping the public up to date and informed. And our political leaders set aside party squabbles and put the national interest first.

It was the best of times amidst the worst of times. But it sure hasn't lasted.

Our politicians are back to bickering. Our security remains a grave concern. Our media is back to 24-hour coverage of salacious stories like those about Scott Peterson and Kobe Bryant, and the war on terror has been superceded by the quagmire in Iraq.

Who would have thought that two years after the attacks, Osama bin Laden would still be alive and putting out a video tape threatening America while the Bush administration would be pouring billion of dollars we don't have down the drain in pursuit of its neoconservative delusions of democracy in Iraq?

I mean, how disgraceful and disgusting is it to have the Bush administration asking for another $87 billion dollars to fight the war in Iraq while refusing to pay the tens of millions of dollars Washington owes California?

That $87 billion is more than it would take to balance the budget of all 50 states. And it's more than the money the president is earmarking next year for homeland security and the State Department combined.

I don't know about you, but I certainly don't feel more safe and secure knowing that we are spending more in Iraq than on protecting us here at home.

This administration has truly squandered the storehouse of goodwill that came forth on Sept. 11 two years ago. It squandered it by asking so little of us.

In the days and weeks following 9/11 our leaders did everything in their power to convince us that the best way to do our part in the fight against terrorism was to return as quickly as possible to our normal lives. And regrettably they've gotten their wish.

After the initial outpouring of generosity, volunteerism in America has returned to pre-9/11 levels and charitable giving has actually fallen.

Maybe we can use the occasion of this solemn anniversary to renew the values and spirit that came to the fore that day. It would be the greatest tribute we could pay to the victims of 9/11.

And it is that spirit, that sense of community that we had but which we have squandered, that I want to help rekindle here in California. That feeling of being a part of something larger than ourselves.

Together we can recapture that spirit - that community - and together we can make government work for us again. But only if we take it back from the big money special interests that are calling the tune in Sacramento.

Even though I've been campaigning hard for 29 days, today really feels like the day of a whole new race. The post-debate reaction from the people I'm meeting is inspiring and energizing.

I was very happy with the way the debate turned out. It really showed just how marked the difference is between my candidacy and those of the others in the race.

I was also struck by the fearful approach of the two leading candidates: Mr. Schwarzenegger didn't even bother to show up, and Mr. Bustamante skipped out after the debate, refusing to meet with the press as all the rest of us did. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought that I was taking part in a taping of "Fear Factor", not a debate.

And what did Arnold get for his skittish attitude? An egg on the shoulder, leading me to ponder the age-old political question: Which came first? The chickening out, or the egging?

As our car pulled into the Sacramento Sheraton after midnight Wednesday night, following a very long day of nonstop speeches, press conferences, TV interviews, and campaign appearances, our campaign's peerless press secretary, Parker Blackman, turned to me and said with a smile, "You have an easy day tomorrow. You don't have to get up until 5 a.m. to make the local morning TV rounds before meeting with the capitol press corps."

And that actually sounded very good to me.

How come, I wondered to myself, am I doing so well on only 3 or 4 hours of sleep a night, when I am someone who normally needs a solid 7 hours of sack-time to feel refreshed?

I decided it must be the campaign regimen I'm following.

Here then are my seven hard and fast rules for surviving the rigors of the campaign trail.

Absolutely no alcohol. Not even a sip of wine from somebody else's glass.

No carbs. Although I must admit I broke down on the airplane and had a bag of pretzels. But it was a really tiny bag.

Absolutely no high heels.

Drink lots and lots and lots of water. And when you think you've drunk enough, drink another bottle 4a. Make sure you have a well-trained advance person who always knows where the closest bathroom is.

Keep plenty of blotting tissue handy for dealing with shiny patches in-between interviews. Especially if, like me, you have Greek olive oily skin - it's great for wrinkles, but bad for TV.

An ample supply of café lattes.

And, most importantly, it helps to no end to have a set of ideas you passionately believe in - and that you don't mind saying again and again and again and again and again and again..

I'm driving to Santa Barbara today to visit Transition House -- an organization that helps house and care for homeless families with children -- and then do a fundraiser tonight. On the way I'm finalizing my speech for tomorrow ... don't worry, Parker Blackman, my magnificent Press Secretary, is driving!

Here is a sneak preview of the speech:

"Nothing will change in Sacramento if the people aren't galvanized, motivated, and mobilized. That's been the history in this country. It's been the people - not elected officials - who have been in the forefront of the great social changes of the last century.

It wasn't elected officials who led the struggle for civil rights or the drive for women's rights or the fight to end the war in Vietnam. It was the people. And without the outrage of at least a critical mass of the people we'll never be able to take our government back.

In the next few minutes, I could offer up an amazing array of programs designed to balance the budget, improve our schools, further racial and economic justice, and protect the environment -- and, by the way, I plan to -- but unless I can arouse and animate the electorate, and convince them to keep the pressure on the Legislature, the partisan gridlock that we see in Sacramento will continue.

The time has come for a people's uprising - a bottom up rescue of the state of California. Traditional politicians are not going to save us. We have to save ourselves.

And to do that we're going to need an independent leader in Sacramento who is dedicated to fairness and justice, and who will put workers and families at the top of her agenda.

That's precisely the kind of independent leadership I intend to provide.

So what is independent leadership? Well, first off, let me tell you what it's not:

Independent leadership isn't kowtowing to big buck donors like Cruz Bustamante did when he released his budget plan last week. He called for "Tough Love" for everyone in California except the prison guards' union and Indian gaming interests - not coincidentally, two of his biggest campaign contributors.

Expecting independent leadership from a bought-and-paid-for career politician like Bustamante is like expecting a dyed-in-the-wool, tax-obsessed Bush Republican like Schwarzenegger to actually "clean house" in Sacramento.

That's another thing independent leadership isn't: claiming to be an outsider while filling your campaign staff with a Who's Who of GOP insiders, including Pete Wilson, George Shultz, and Mike Boskin, an economic advisor to President Bush.

I mean, is there really anybody out there who, after surveying the economic landscape of California, can seriously say: Yep, what this state needs is some more Bush-onomics. It's worked so well nationally; we just need to get some more of that here?

Okay, enough about what independent leadership isn't. Here's what it is ..."

After I found out last week about Dean's work as a lobbyist in Minnesota, he and I had many conversations about the conflict this presented for my campaign. He felt that his work as a lobbyist in Minnesota was an unnecessary distraction to the campaign and that he should leave. So after much thought and with great respect and admiration for Dean, we concluded that it would be best for the campaign for him to step down. He has done an outstanding job of getting our campaign up and running, and keeping it organized and on message. I thank him for his time, his effort, his energy, and his commitment to helping me put an end to politics as usual in the state of California.

Bill Zimmerman will continue as the campaign strategist, and he and his team will take on more of the day to day management duties.

Below is the letter that Dean wrote to me this morning.

Dear Arianna,

When I discovered earlier this week that my work in Minnesota as a lobbyist was still raising concerns with some of your supporters, I decided that for the good of the campaign I should remove this distraction and step down as your campaign manager.

Even though this was not an easy decision for me to make, it is the right thing to do. It has been a privilege to work with you – and I know that the campaign, which we have all worked so hard on for the past two weeks, will be a great success. I look forward to watching you remake the California political landscape.

Going through the morning papers, I scan over the pictures of Arnold's team of economic advisors -- not a double X chromosome among them. In a state where there are tens of thousands of women in positions of power, including both U.S. Senators, there was not even one woman who Arnold thought worthy of adding to the mix?

We need greater diversity, not more of the same old boys club -- emphasis on the boys -- that got us into this mess in the first place.

It's not just a matter of gender. It's a matter of priorities. A woman governor, particularly one who is also a mother, would bring a whole different perspective to the problems facing California.

My priorities would be the priorities a mother has for her children: a quality education; affordable and readily accessible health care; and a safe clean world to live in. No mother in California should have to send her kids off to crumbling, decaying, rat-infested schools - as hundreds of thousands of them currently do. No mother should have to sit in a hospital waiting room for 20 hours waiting for a doctor to see her sick child because she can't afford health insurance for herself and her kids - but that's the case right now. And no mother should have to worry about whether her children will grow up in world choked with polluted air and water, which is why we need a sane energy policy that protects the environment, stresses fuel efficiency, and invests in clean and renewable energy.

In her book "Sex and Power", Susan Estrich looked at why women are unable to break the "glass ceiling" in business and politics. Maybe it's because every time they try to assert some power the male dominated political culture tries to cut them down.

Take the column Estrich wrote today, in which she launched an all-out attack on me on the grounds that my running for governor makes me a bad mother.

Leaving aside her completely inaccurate description of my relationship with my children - based on nothing other than my ex-husband's one-note rants - it was like reading a piece written in 1903, not 2003. Or even 1973. I guess we haven't come as long a way, baby as we thought.

I assumed we were long past the argument over whether you could be a woman, a leader, and a mother without having the powers-that-be shaking their heads and pulling out the slime.

This kind of dirty politics is one reason why over 13 million Californians didn't vote in the last election. People are sick and tired of campaigns as demolition derbies, with candidates - and their designated hatchet men and women - attacking each other until there is only one candidate left standing.

So politics is less and less about stepping forward with an agenda and will to lead, and increasingly about avoiding the land mines laid out by political attack dogs. It's no wonder we keep getting candidates who are more and more wrinkle-free, more and more foible-free - and far, far more idea-free.

I knew when I got into this race that people would sling all kinds of mud at me - although, I must say, I never expected that they would also turn back the cultural clock to the days of Ozzie and Harriet and label me a bad mother for running.

But there hasn't been a day when the mudslinging hasn't been eclipsed by the unique experience of life on the campaign trail, particularly the people you meet and the stories they tell. And let's not forget the subtle but sublime pleasures of operating on 3 hours of sleep a night. Quick, get me another cafe latte.